Date: Wed, 23 Jan 2013 12:27:57 -0800 (PST)
From: Beautiful Creamer
Subject: Sissyboy Humiliation (gay adult-youth)
Sissyboy Humiliation (gay adult-youth)
By Beautiful Creamer
One  Friday night
For Channing Openbum, the humiliation had all started on Channing's
tenth-and-a-half birthday, when Daddy and he had their first "date."
Daddy did the whole first-date-thing right back then. "Old school." There
was no question of that.
It was Daddy's weekend with Channing. Alternate weekends, Wednesday
evenings and every other Christmas, according to the divorce settlement.
And Daddy treated it like a date from the very beginning.
Channing had played "special games" with his friends Stevie and Ivan up to
that point, of course. The kind of things pretty boys do. Kissing.
Touching each other's "privates." Rubbing each other where it felt good.
That sort of thing.
But he'd never been on a real date. Or been "with" a man or an older boy.
Channing was delighted when Daddy told him, as soon as Mom dropped him off,
that they would be "dating" that evening.
Channing had been hoping for some time that Daddy would take things beyond
the fully-clothed cuddling and soft kissing they did as Channing sat on
Daddy's lap and watched TV. That lovely night went way beyond that.
Right away, Daddy gave Channing a pretty bouquet of flowers and kissed him
right on the lips. Though still no tongue. "I made us a dinner
reservation at a great place, so I want you to look your loveliest," Daddy
said. "Go take a shower in your bathroom and put on the clothes I left for
you on your bed. I'll go take a shower in my room. Can you get ready in a
half hour?"
Channing eagerly agreed. Though he was a bit disappointed that Daddy
wasn't taking Channing into the shower with him for some naked kissing and
cuddling. He had never seen Daddy naked, but he definitely wanted to.
When Channing and Stevie and Ivan "played," they dropped their pants.
Channing wanted Daddy to drop his pants for Channing that night.
Channing scooted into his room and went straight to the shower. As he was
soaping up, thoughts of "being with Daddy" had the young beauty stiff and
needy.
The sweet angel rubbed the warm, soapy washcloth all over his sensitive,
skinned, four-inch beauty-stick and dreamed of Daddy's kisses. Would he
and Daddy be rubbing each other's cocks!?!? Making each other shudder and
shoot that creamy stuff the way he and Stevie had done with each other
three days earlier when Mom thought they were playing video games, but they
were playing with each other's boy's things?
Oh! That had felt so good. And he and Stevie would have done it again
except they heard Mom stomping up the stairs toward them.
Channing patted himself dry and walked naked into his bedroom, where he had
hoped Daddy would be lying on his back. Naked. Making his Daddy-cock all
stiff and drippy for Channing to play with.
But the room was empty. [sigh]
Except for the bed and the clothes Daddy wanted Channing to wear when they
went to that fancy restaurant.
Channing blushed.
Daddy expected Channing to wear [gasp] panties!
Channing touched himself with his right hand as he held a pair of panties
in his left hand. Pink, low-cut, bikini panties that would show off large
swaths of the boy's beautiful bumcheeks. And were so sheer that Channing's
"pretty things" would all be visible to anyone who saw him in his panties!
What if he had an accident and he was in the emergency room and everyone
saw that he was a sissyboy who wore sexy, cockteasing panties?
Oh, the humiliation!
Channing skinned his knob as he thought about everyone in the emergency
room pointing at him and calling him a queer little cockteaser and...
Channing's little testicles exploded.
The mere thought of such delicious humiliation found a trigger deep within
Channing that the little creampuff hardly knew he had.
If Channing was cumming just thinking about wearing the panties, how would
he ever wear them? And the other naughty things that Daddy had picked out
for him, to wit: white, silk, ultra-short sissy shorts that barely covered
his pink panties; a white, silk blouse/shirt, trimmed with lace on the
collar, on the short sleeves and in all the sissiest places; a cotton,
strapped undershirt, the kind that pre-pubescent girls wear and you could
see right through his blouse; and worst of all, turned-over, white, ankle
socks with ruffled lace and satin bows; and black, patent-leather,
single-strap, Mary Jane shoes!
It was the ultimate sissyboy outfit for a boy who, at that time, wasn't
really sure what a sissyboy was, let alone whether he was one.
That trigger inside him was being tickled by what he saw on the bed.
Wearing that gear in public would be SO humiliating! And so thrilling.
But the best part was the effect Channing knew wearing a sissy suit would
have on Daddy.
They'd be kissing naked before the evening was out for sure.
Channing slid his shapely legs into the panties and gasped at how good they
felt as they embraced his privates.
He was careful in his movements  didn't want to "ruin" the panties so
early in his date. He put on the rest of the outfit, then spent a good ten
minutes admiring his beautiful self in the mirror. Getting more
comfortable with the idea of being seen in public as a walking inducement
to child molestation. Even if it involved deep, red-faced humiliation.
So engrossed was Channing with his sissyish beauty that he didn't see Daddy
come into the room.
But Daddy saw Channing. The man gasped in awe. And considered just
abandoning the whole "date" idea and just throwing his son onto the floor,
ripping off his clothes and mounting him.
But Daddy was civilized. And he had a plan.
A plan to feed his son the humiliation a sissyboy needs  spoonful by
spoonful.
So he waited until Channing noticed him.
Three minutes. Four.
Then Channing's attention on himself wavered just enough that he glimpsed
Daddy in the mirror and turned.
Oh my!
Daddy was wearing his best suit, wing tips and power tie! He looked
gorgeous. And Channing told him so. By running toward Daddy, flinging
himself into the man's arms and burying his tongue in Daddy's mouth.
Their first French kiss.
And their first stiff-cock-to-stiff-cock-through-the-clothes rub-up.
It was deliciously exciting for them both. But Daddy stopped it. Wanting
to do things properly. Giving his boy a first date to remember forever.
"We'll have plenty of time for...uh...father-son affection later, Baby.
But we don't want to be late for our dinner at L'Ile du Diable now, do we?"
Channing didn't give two horsepatooties about dinner. He wanted to be
naked with Daddy. Kissing with tongues. As Daddy rubbed his little penis
the way that Stevie and Ivan did. Until he got that great feeling and his
stuff squirted out. Then he wanted to rub Daddy's big penis as he kissed
him. And get Daddy all "hot and bothered" until his stuff squirted out.
Better than some old French restaurant.
But Daddy was in charge. So he grabbed Channing by the hand as they walked
out the door together. Hand-in-hand they walked to the restaurant, which
was only four blocks away.
It was a warm, late spring night and a lot of people were out. People who
saw a handsome, well-dressed man and a pre-teen, ultra-sissily-dressed boy
walking hand in hand. Looking at each other now and then as if they wanted
to, at the very least, pull each other's cocks out and rub them to a creamy
climax.
It was abject humiliation for Channing!
Excruciating in its intensity. People were looking at him mincing along,
hand in hand with his Daddy  in the sissiest possible get-up.
Practically begging for men to do filthy naughties with him.
His face was flushed with shame. And his cock was flushed with blood. It
was the single most exciting 15 minutes of his life. So far.
As he walked with Daddy, Channing heard women "whisper" to their husbands
things like, "That little tart is going to get fucked good and proper when
that man gets him home."
Channing wasn't sure what that meant. Was he the "tart?" What was a tart?
And how could Daddy "fuck" Channing? Channing knew what fucking was. He
learned it in school. A lady had a vagina and...[blush]...you know.
Channing didn't have a vagina, so Daddy couldn't fuck him.
As we'll see, Channing soon learned more about such things.
But at that point, the boy was merely young, dumb and full of cum.
Blushing and trembling, Channing endured the mortifying "perp walk" of
sissiness and arrived with Daddy at the fancy, French, chi-chi restaurant,
"L'Ile du Diable."
You know the kind. Expensive. Haughty. Rude waiters.
But as man and sissyboy son entered the place, the maξtre d' and his
staff fawned all over the incestuous couple.
Channing, you see, was and is every man's moistest dream. The maitre d',
captain, waiter and busboy all knew that their chances of fucking Channing
were slim. But why burn bridges?
The other diners noticed Channing as well. The men all noticed Channing
and stretched their underpants. The women all noticed their men noticing
Channing and berated them for it  though the men were merely answering
the most primal of instincts  the need to empty one's balls.
Every man in the restaurant, despite his female companion's ferocious
objections, made at least one trip to the men's room  via Daddy and
Channing's table.
Channing ate it up.
No one had ever treated him like that before. Like a rock star of sex.
He still trembled during most of the meal. But it was mostly from
excitement. Especially when Daddy reached under the table and rubbed
Channing's cock through his shorts and panties. Daddy gave it some really
nice cuddles as they shared a dessert.
Whenever Channing stole a look at one of the other diners, they were giving
him that "I know your Daddy's playing with your cock under the table, you
little faggot" look.
You know the one.
So Channing's face was red with shame/excitement during the entire meal.
By the time Daddy paid and left a very nice tip, Channing couldn't wait to
get home and get naked with Daddy. So the young beauty left with Daddy.
Gripping Daddy's arm as they paraded through the restaurant. Both cocks
tenting their pants.
The walk home was accomplished in record time. As was the race to Daddy's
bedroom. But then things slowed a bit. Daddy wanted to savor the
unveiling of Channing's beautiful body to satisfy Daddy's filthy,
homosexual, pederastic, incestuous, lustful urges.
Daddy took his suit jacket off and hung it very carefully as a panting,
gasping, overheated Channing watched in erotic desperation. Then Daddy
removed his shirt, which he tossed into a clothes hamper, and his necktie,
which he hung with his suit coat.
Channing was whimpering with need as Daddy took off his shoes and socks.
Then his suit pants, which he hung with his jacket and tie.
So Daddy was down to his boxers, while Channing was still fully, though
sissily, dressed.
Daddy eased Channing onto his back on the bed and Channing thought that
Daddy was going to cover him with his body, then writhe around with him as
they kissed and pulled each other's clothes off.
He was right.
It was only normal that Channing would be excited. His cock was skinned,
red and dripping furiously into his panties.
Being with one's Daddy when he's almost naked for the first time is
exciting enough. But the humiliation he had endured earlier that evening
was a huge spice-up!!
Daddy broke the kiss and began to undress Channing. He unbuttoned the
pretty boy's blouse and lifted the little-girl undershirt to expose
Channing's impossibly hard, impossibly puffy nipples.
Channing felt so vulnerable!
He began to tremble in lust and fear. What if Daddy's beastly instincts
took over and he crushed Channing?
Daddy let his boy's excitement build for a few moments, then plunged his
head onto Channing's right nipple.
Kissing, licking. Even sucking.
Oh!
That felt so good!!
Daddy licked his puffy prize until the boy was nearly half-mad with sexual
arousal.
By the time Daddy transferred his oral attentions to Channing's left
nipple, Channing could hold back "the natural order of things" no longer.
The young beauty squealed out his love for Daddy and filled his pink
panties with rich, thick, boy's cream.
His poor, aching testicles nearly left his body.
And all Daddy had done was lick his boy's nipples.
Daddy gave Channing a roguish smile, then unfastened the boy's sissy
shorts.
"Let's see what you did to those panties I spent my hard-earned money on,"
Daddy said with a fake scowl.
For a nanosecond, Channing thought he had done something wrong.
Then he realized it was all part of the game.
A very nice game.
The nicest game of all.
"Oh, my goodness," Daddy said in a mock-somber tone. "This looks really
serious. Something seems to have come out of your penis. I hope you're
all right. I'd better look a bit more closely."
Channing giggled softly at Daddy's little joke. And lifted his hips to
allow Daddy to take off Channing's shorts and panties.
[Sissyboys are easy.]
Daddy removed Channing's shorts completely, and helped him slide out or his
undershirt and blouse. But he only pulled Channing's panties down until
they reached the bottom of his cute little "pink purse."
Daddy stopped for a minute to consider his prize.
The boy was beautiful. Soft, blond hair  too long for most boys, but
perfect for a sissy. Gorgeous facial features  deep blue eyes and lips
that invited kisses and cocks.
The boy was dressed to thrill. Naked from the testicles up, the boy's
heaving chest pushed his re-hardening nipples at Daddy. His long legs
ended in the sissiest footwear imaginable: turned-over, white, ankle socks
with ruffled lace and satin bows and black, patent-leather, single-strap,
Mary Jane shoes. Daddy left the boy's shoes and socks on as an extra
thrill to his manly libido. As if he needed that.
The boy was ready for anything sexual that Daddy threw his way. Though
Daddy wasn't sure how far he would go that evening. Or how many little
tricks Channing had turned and/or learned with his little friends Stevie
and Ivan. Who, Daddy thought, were also fine examples of sissyboyhood.
The boy was his son. But Daddy was no slave to convention.
Daddy's thick, nine-inch cock burst the surly bonds of his boxer shorts'
cock flap and pointed its dripping peelips at Channing.
The boy's deep blush answered Daddy's questions about Channing's experience
level. That had to be the first man's cock Channing had ever seen.
Daddy briefly considered sliding his manmeat into Channing's mouth right
then  pumping it in and out of the pretty boy's wet, receptacle --
soothing the growing fire in Daddy's balls. But he wanted Channing to feel
the pleasure of full oral sex first.
Oh my.
Channing's panties were certainly drenched with sperm.
Daddy was happy that his boy was such a cum fountain. He planned to slake
his thirst at that fountain many times over the coming years.
Look at that.
Quite a bit of thick, love creamies were along the shaft of Channing's
four-inch prick and along the right side of Channing's balls.
That needed to be addressed immediately.
Daddy leaned over and began to lick up all the spunk from Channing's
wrinkled purse.
Channing cried out in delight.
He didn't know that men and boys, well, licked each other down there after
they'd had their "time."
But he was SO glad that Daddy knew what was what.
Daddy did a very nice, tidy job of licking up all of Channing's latest
erotic discharge. Moving from the wet, but sparklingly clean ball bag to
the boy's fully restiffened penis.
Channing moaned with lust as Daddy slowly, wetly, lovingly consumed all the
spunk along the tender shaft. Then [blush] began to tidy up some areas
where no spunk had clung.
The boy's foreskin was back and his pink knob was exposed to Daddy's
lustful tongue.
Where did Daddy learn to lick a cockknob like that, Channing wondered
briefly before he surrendered to the pleasure.
Daddy's tongue on the boy's most tender parts was maddeningly delicious.
Oh dear.
Channing had already made such a big, cummy mess. Was another one...
Unnnhhh!!
Channing's balls detonated!
And poor Daddy was in the line of fire!!
Channing tried to warn Daddy, but all the young beauty could manage was a
shriek of delight as he pumped the full contents of his boyish nectar into
Daddy's mouth and all over his handsome face.
Channing adored his first blowjob.
Daddy adored giving Channing his first blowjob.
But Channing was worried about shooting his stuff all over Daddy like that?
Would Daddy be angry?
Channing didn't want Daddy to be angry.
He wanted Daddy to let Channing try that nice lickup stuff with Daddy's big
blaster.
Channing needn't have worried.
Daddy took half of Channing's cum eruption in his mouth and the rest all
over his face.
A face that he promptly buried in his son's face.
Sucking tongues.
A big, cummy kiss.
Licking out each other's mouths and licking off each other's faces.
Channing writhed and moaned with delight as they kissed. And he even found
the courage to reach for and begin to stroke Daddy's bare cock.
Which made Daddy writhe and moan, until, "You can suck it if you want,
Baby," Daddy said. "But licking and kissing it would be better."
Channing was ready and willing.
Daddy lay on his back.
Channing was unsure about the proper position until, "On your knees,
Channing. A sissyboy sucks his man's cock from his knees."
Oh dear.
Daddy was calling Channing a sissyboy. And making him into a kneeling,
subservient, cocksucking little nancy.
Channing couldn't have been happier.
Maybe that was why Daddy was humiliating Channing. So that the boy would
know that a sissyboy serves his man.
Well, Channing was eager to serve his man.
So he knelt by Daddy's right hip and began to examine Daddy's cock
manually.
It was so big! And hot! And hard!
Yet very smooth and tender at the knob, which was the erotic zone that
seemed to affect Daddy the most when Channing touched it  rubbing his
sweet fingers softly across its pink flesh.
Daddy was leaking very badly as Channing completed his inspection and
leaned forward for his first taste of cock.
The boy had tasted his own sperm for the first time moments earlier when he
and Daddy kissed. But this leaky stuff was different.
Sweeter.
Thinner.
Licking it all up as Daddy leaked seemed to make Daddy very happy. Judging
by Daddy's grunts and shivers.
Daddy's cock was delicious.
And Daddy loved having his cock sucked.
So why would anyone think that a boy sucking his Daddy's cock was wrong?
Daddy also loved having his balls licked, Channing discovered to their
mutual delight.
Daddy was enjoying it all, but he really needed to cum.
"Suck and lick the head, Baby," he said. "I'm close."
Did Daddy mean he was close to shooting his creamies? Channing hoped so.
He wanted to see what a man's creamies looked like.
The sweet boy tongued Daddy's pink knob with complete delight. Listening
to Daddy's breathing change. Feeling Daddy's love shivers until...
"Oh, Sweetie!!" Daddy cried out.
And the spermcano erupted.
Right onto Channing's pretty face. And into his mouth.
Teaching the boy two excellent lessons  a man makes a lot more sperm
than a boy  and don't try to swallow it all when it's the man's first
of the lovemaking session.
For his part, Daddy was feeling pretty good about his erotic prospects over
the next few years.
Daddy was teaching Channing how to be a sissyboy by alternating sex
sessions with humiliation.
Daddy knew that the greatest impediment to a boy accepting his full
sissyboyhood was the fear of humiliation. Drag the boy through the deepest
pit of mortification and he no longer has a reason to hold back.
With one quick glance at the clock, he also knew that his timing on a
further piece of embarrassment was perfect.
Channing's face was drenched with sperm. He had a cum beard on his smiling
features.
Was Daddy going to lick all that off him?
[Ding-dong]
Huh?
That was the doorbell.
Who was there?
"That's the pizza-delivery guy, Channing. Can you please go to the door
and pay him? The money's on the table over there."
Huh?
Channing's panties were half down. His cock was still dripping sperm. He
was wearing ultra-sissy shoes and socks. And his face was frosted with
sperm. It would take him at least ten minutes to make himself
presentable...
"C'mon, Honey. The pizza's getting cold. It's your favorite  sausage
and green peppers. I figured we would enjoy a snack. You can pull your
panties up if you want, but you won't have time to wipe your face. Go!"
Daddy was a cruel beast!!!
Channing couldn't!!!
But he had to.
Channing got out of bed, pulled his panties up, shot Daddy the dirtiest of
dirty looks, grabbed the money and stomped off to the front door.
I can do this, Channing thought. But he was trembling with the deepest
humiliation as he opened the door to a startled 16-year-old delivery boy.
The pizza boy stood aghast at the sight of a beautiful 10-year-old wearing
only panties in which he had obviously spunked (panties!!), turned-over,
white, ankle socks with ruffled lace and satin bows and black,
patent-leather, single-strap, Mary Jane shoes!!
But that wasn't all!
The boy was also wearing a faceful of sperm!!
No doubt about it.
And the little slutboy answered the door like that! How could anyone be
that brazen?
On second look, the kid didn't look brazen. He looked humiliated. And in
a rush.
The sissyboy pushed the money at the delivery boy, grabbed the pizza and
pushed the door shut.
Leaving the delivery boy
with whackoff images for at least a month. Beginning three minutes later
in his car.
Channing's chest was heaving with disgrace and shame. How could Daddy make
him do something like that?
Maybe Channing should just tell Daddy he was taking a shower, getting
dressed and calling Mom to take him home. Except...
The sissyboy's cock was anthracite hard.
And he was positively trembling with sexual excitement.
The way that delivery boy had looked at Channing! He wasn't disgusted. Or
amused. He was...aroused.
Channing aroused men. The men in the restaurant. The men along the path
Daddy and he took to and from the restaurant.
Channing was a sex lure.
Drawing men's libidos to the surface. Teasing their cocks and their brains
as they considered the myriad of disgusting needs they would satisfy with
Channing. The ways they would USE the boy for their sexual gratification.
Was this how Channing's life would be from now on?
He certainly hoped so.
He had to get back to Daddy and do something about his hardon, which was
getting more painful by the millisecond.
Channing turned his head toward the bedroom and there was Daddy. Standing
six feet away. His manly cock fully reinvigorated at the notion of what he
had put Channing through.
Daddy was a brutal beast!! Embarrassing his son at every turn.
But that never seems to be a deterrent when cocks are stiff and leaking
goo.
Channing dropped the pizza.
Then dropped his panties.
Daddy scooped Channing into his arms and, kissing him hungrily as they
walked, transported him to the bedroom.
He laid the boy on the bed and, oddly to Channing, lay with his head at
Channing's feet and his feet at Channing's head.
What...?
"We both need it badly, Baby. Now!" Daddy offered as an explanation.
And he engulfed Channing's cock with his mouth.
Channing got the drift.
He took Daddy's knob into his sweet mouth and gave Daddy what he wanted 
a nice, slow, saliva-filled blowjob.
Mmmmmm, Channing thought. Giving and getting at the same time! What a
concept.
It was a night of true learning for the boy.
The sensations were intense. Then intenser, as Daddy introduced his middle
finger to Channing's anus ring.
Not really entering. Just teasing the wrinkle.
But that was more than enough for the boy's balls to order an "abandon
ship" to the few thousand seminal passengers still on board.
And Daddy got a treat far more satisfying than a sausage and green pepper
pizza.
It took a while longer for Daddy to give Channing the "sissyboy's big
reward," but it was well worth the wait.
Channing was a lot more skilled at swallowing Daddy's balljuice the second
time around, so he got the dessert that he had skipped at the restaurant.
Best of all, mostly, there were no more humiliating surprises in store for
Channing that Friday night.
Just sweet, cummy kisses with Daddy. Followed by Daddy taking off
Channing's sissy shoes and socks and kissing each little toesy.
That was nice. It made Channing stiff and needy again. And it even
brought Daddy to half-staff.
But it was time for the exhausted lovers to sleep, naked in each other's
arms.
Two  Saturday Morning
Channing Openbum awoke that lovely Saturday morning to sunlight streaming
through his window and sperm streaming through his cock.
Channing thought he was having one of those nice dreams he had sometimes
when he awoke with wet sheets that weren't peed in.
But it was way better than a wet dream.
Through the double fog of post-orgasmic meltdown and emergence from sleep,
Channing knew that the waker-upper he had just gratefully received differed
from his previous few.
It was better.
More intense.
But how?
Oh!
What was that?
Something was rubbing inside him.
Daddy's finger or fingers were inside him.
Inside his tiny asshole.
Rubbing.
Rubbing something inside of Channing.
Oh!
It felt so good, but so scary too. As if it wasn't something that should
be done. Beyond the design parameters for a boy's body.
But if that were true, why had it been designed to feel so good that
Channing was practically swooning with pleasure as Daddy removed his mouth
from his son's penis, but kept two insolent fingers inside the boy.
Rubbing something special.
Still rubbing, Daddy moved up to share Channing's cum with the boy in a
deep, wet, tongue-centric kiss that, combined with that anal friction was
making the boy moan and whimper like a helpless little sissy.
Oh!
The Cannonball Express was coming down the line again and Channing was tied
to the tracks.
Daddy wasn't even touching Channing's limp cock. Nothing was. But that
persistent rubbing was taking Channing someplace special.
Someplace he hadn't quite visited before.
The boy cried out in startled anguish as he felt himself hurtle toward an
unexplored abyss. The orgasm was very different from the few others he'd
enjoyed in his brief sexual career. It wasn't about his cock. In fact,
his cock didn't seem to be involved until...
Unnhhh.
A weak dribble of semen drooled from Channing's penis as the boy vibrated
violently through an anal cataclysm.
Channing's first anally-based orgasm was unforgettable.
For both Channing and Daddy.
Daddy was amazed at how sexually responsive his sweet boy was.
Far more so than he had imagined or even hoped.
Perhaps he hadn't needed his grand plan to speed up Channing's path to full
sissiness through humiliation.
But to tell the truth, Daddy was enjoying himself too much to stop.
And he was pretty sure that Channing was enjoying the humiliation almost as
much as the sex.
When Channing reentered conventional time and space, he was pleased to
reciprocate for Daddy.
Daddy's cock was throbbing for reciprocation.
And Channing was eager to give it a nice mouth massage.
Daddy wanted relief, but he was also intent on keeping with his theme of
dominance and humiliation.
The lucky man stood on the floor beside the bed, threw a pillow at his feet
and said, "On your knees, sissyboy. And worship my cock."
Channing thought that was a little high-and-mighty thing to say for a guy
like Daddy, who was a certified public accountant who bowled on Thursday
nights and vegged out on the couch to watch football on Sundays.
But he liked being the master's sissyboy.
Channing knelt on the pillow and, as shyly as he could muster, he
approached Daddy's cock with full reverence.
Kissing the dark-pink knob. Moaning with pleasure at being granted
permission to do so.
Submissive.
Attentive to his man's deepest needs.
So refreshing.
So sexual.
So delightful for them both.
As Channing sat back on his haunches, his face soaked with Daddy's sperm,
he pretty much figured he knew that he and Daddy would spend the rest of
the weekend in bed  sucking, kissing and anal-fingering.
He was almost right.
Daddy turned all "hurry-up" after his latest testicle-evacuation. And
hustled Channing through breakfast, shower and getting dressed.
With no sex.
Ick.
What was Daddy's crazy plan now?
Two  Saturday
Daddy's latest odd behavior led Channing to believe that Daddy had
scheduled some fresh humiliation for him.
All Daddy would say about Channing's imminent future as they drove two
miles northeast of their home was. "We need to do some shopping for you."
Shopping?
Aside from emptying Daddy's fat balls, and his own, of course, Channing
couldn't think of a single thing he needed.
Channing's apprehension grew as Daddy pulled into s strip mall and parked
in front of a store called "Mimi's Intimate Apparel."
Channing knew that Daddy couldn't be taking Channing to that store, so he
looked around for other possible shopping places. There was the requisite
overpriced-burnt-coffee store, the payday-loans store, and a bail bondsman.
What was going on?
Oh no!
Daddy was taking Channing to "Mimi's Intimate Apparel!!"
Where the window was filled with mannequins wearing lingerie!!
Women's lingerie!!
It got worse.
"Let's go, slowpoke," Daddy said. "The longer we dilly-dally, the less
time we'll have for you-know-what."
Channing swallowed hard. Daddy was right about that. Even though he was
being a beast again.
The man seemed bent on humiliating Channing again.
And, even though the imminent mortification was as yet undefined,
Channing's cock was bent upward at the thought of it.
Channing's ears were hot with shame when he and Daddy entered the store.
Humiliation part one took place immediately. Every head in the place 
four female customers and three saleswomen  turned when Daddy and
Channing entered.
Channing froze. And considered running. But what if Daddy got mad and
didn't give Channing what he needed?
Daddy cock.
Big portions.
Plus, every time he'd been humiliated, the sex that followed closely was
spectacular.
Channing manned up. Sissied up actually. To be precise. And grabbed
Daddy's arm the way a girl would grab the arm of her boyfriend.
Channing put his trust in Daddy. And hoped he wouldn't regret it.
Daddy looked at Channing leaned over and kissed him on the lips. In front
of those seven women!
Bad start.
Then worse.
"Hi. Could we get some help please?" Daddy shouted across the room at the
saleswomen. "My son needs some lingerie and things. Panties. Nighties.
Maybe some stockings."
Channing turned fire engine red. And quaked with embarrassment.
He looked at the floor. Avoiding eye contact with the women. But he could
hear their tittering and unkind comments, such as "I'll bet that little
prickteaser gets it good and proper from his Daddy. Right up his butt, I'd
say," a redheaded, 45-year-old customer said.
Which wasn't even true. Thus far. But a logical conclusion.
Another customer responded saying, "Well, his Daddy's handsome, but isn't
fucking your underage son illegal in this state?"
The ladies were pondering the answer to that when a saleslady appeared and
said, "Pay them no mind, young man. They're just jealous because they know
that you'll look a lot better in our panties and nighties than they
will. You're quite a beauty."
Channing raised his tear-stained eyes at the compliment. And saw a pretty,
60-year-old, grey-haired woman whose nametag said "Flo."
"You're right, Flo," Daddy said. "Channing is an angel of love and beauty.
He looks perfect naked, but when he's dressed, he may as well have some of
the things the sissyboys love to wear these days."
Flo grabbed Channing's arm gently and said, "We have a whole sissyboy
section at the rear of the store. In your sizes and made to fit a pretty
boy. Some of our best sellers. The ladies don't buy the sexy stuff very
often these days because it would make their men happy. But sissyboys 
Ooh lala!"
Ooh lala?
Channing wasn't sure what that meant. Was it French? No matter. He, Flo
and Daddy were moving rapidly toward the sissyboy department.
Flo showed Channing the panty section first.
Channing trembled as he beheld what looked to him to be an acre of pantied
magnificence.
All colors and styles imaginable.
And all made to accommodate a boy's, well, "boy's things."
Channing glanced over his shoulder at the store's female customers. They
were all staring at him. Giggling. Mocking him.
The pretty boy's cock would have cut glass.
"Go ahead and pick out a few, Honey," Daddy said. "I'll buy you as many as
you like."
Daddy was a fiend!
Channing could see Daddy's cock practically ripping his pants apart at the
indignity he was heaping onto Channing.
But what could the little creampuff do?
The only way to minimize the damage, Channing reasoned, was to hurry things
along. Pick out five or six pairs, have Daddy pay for them, get Daddy to
drive Channing home, then spend the rest of the weekend sucking each
other's cocks.
Like normal people.
But which panties to take?
Hmm.
Flo saw Channing's indecision and, as any good salesperson would, stepped
in.
"Someone as pretty as you would look good in any of these panties, but
since you're new to them, I recommend we stick with some basic bikini
styles  brief of course, to show off a lot of that beautiful body. We
can start with the basic colors too  pink, white and, for those special
nights with your manfriends, black. Why don't we try these?"
Flo handed Channing eight pairs of panties. Unexpectedly, Channing felt a
thrill as he touched them. And even though he was in a great hurry, he
carefully inspected each pair before they could leave Mimi's Intimate
Apparel.
Channing decided that Flo indeed knew her stuff. The panties were perfect.
No. That wasn't what Channing meant. He meant the panties were less bad
than they could have been.
Channing nodded his head, thanked Flo for her help, and handed the panties
to Daddy.
So Daddy could pay for them.
And they could get out of there.
Soon.
Daddy had other ideas.
"These look good, Channing. But you really need to try them on before we
can buy them. Is that the changing booth over there? Thanks, Flo."
Horrors!!
Daddy wanted Channing to try the panties on!?!?
And Channing was pretty sure what that meant.
"I'll sit in this chair, Channing," Daddy said. "Go try each pair on, then
come out and show me. You can see yourself in that mirror. Go ahead.
Scoot!"
Scoot?!?!?
This was the worst. The absolute worst.
Channing would be modeling panties in a public store. With Daddy, three
salesladies and four female customers watching.
Wait a minute.
There were now 11 female customers in the store. Were they calling their
friends to come see the sissyboy?!?!?
Channing shot Daddy a murderous glare, grabbed the eight pairs of panties
and stomped into the changing room.
Daddy was getting no further use of Channing's mouth as a semen depository!
Channing had been pushed TOO far!
Now he was going to have to stand there in his panties while Daddy and all
those women witnessed his shame.
Although, had he thought about it all a bit, the pretty boy had little to
be ashamed of.
He was prettier than those women and looked better in lingerie than they
did.
That light had not yet gone on in Channing's brain. But it was flickering.
Channing dropped his pants and underpants and, without even removing his
shirt; his turned-over, white, ankle socks with ruffled lace and satin
bows; or his black, patent-leather, single-strap, Mary Jane shoes; stepped
into the first panties in the pile  pink, low-cut bikini teasers with a
"boypouch."
Channing stomped out to where Daddy was sitting and stood there with his
arms crossed.
Were there 18 women looking at him?
Daddy's frown revealed his reaction to Channing's brattiness.
The man beckoned Channing to him.
Channing hesitated just a moment, then moved to stand in front of his
Daddy. Hands at his side.
"You mustn't pout, Baby," Daddy said softly. "Daddy's doing this for you
own good." Then, in a louder voice, "That's no way to model panties."
Within 15 seconds, Daddy had removed Channing's shirt, undershirt, shoes
and socks.
Leaving the pretty boy wearing only skimpy, pink panties and a
fire-engine-red blush.
The women gasped at his beauty. Or his brazenness. Or both.
Channing took it as a compliment.
Which stiffened both his resolve to get through his predicament and his
cock.
Then Channing caught a glimpse of himself in the shop's three angled,
full-length mirrors.
Oh my!
Despite the tags trailing from the as-yet-unsold panties, Channing looked
deliciously beautiful,
Spellbound by his own beauty, Channing drifted away from Daddy's vicinity
and lost himself in self-admiration.
Seeing, for the first time in full-length and full-light, how beautiful his
body truly was.
The boy was slim, but fuller at the hips. With greatly, deliciously
oversized nipples and a gloriously plump bottom.
To his credit, Daddy didn't interrupt.
But the onlookers, who now numbered 22, did.
"Let's see the next pair, sissyboy!" one churlish woman called out as the
others hooted as if they were at a females-only strip club.
Channing, whose tears were gone, ignored them all until he was ready. At
which point, he shot Daddy a flirty look, then went back to the changing
room. Emerging wearing barely-there, black hip-huggers with pink ribbon
accents. Also accented by a very erected boycock within.
The crowd of 26 whooped.
Daddy erected.
Channing noticed.
Channing took a briefer look at himself in the mirror. Should he turn the
table a bit on Daddy??
Why not?
Channing did an about-face from the mirror, giving the throng of 29 women
and 6 men a good look at his nipples and pointed panties. Then he sissied
over to his seated father and brazenly sat right on Daddy's lap.
The crowd gasped.
Daddy gasped.
"Do you think I look pretty in these, Daddy?" the boy asked. Loudly enough
that those in the back row of spectators heard clearly.
Daddy felt a pang of embarrassment. But it was trumped by lust.
He took his beautiful son into his manly arms and tongue-kissed him as the
crowd whooped and hollered their approval.
One thing led to another and Daddy soon had his hand into the front of
Channing's panties as they kissed. Teasing the boy's enflamed knob.
Making Channing grunt and whimper until the sissyboy squealed loudly and
squirted prodigiously.
Two women fainted. Three men spunked in their pants.
Daddy carried the exhausted sissyboy toward the dressing room. Just before
they left "the stage," Daddy stripped the boy's cummy panties off, tossed
them to Flo and said, "We'll take all eight pairs, plus those other items I
gave you."
Then Daddy and the newly naked Channing disappeared into the dressing room.
Leaving the audience wanting more.
Because Daddy wanted and needed something right away.
He and Channing entered booth 3 and locked the door.
Daddy established a new world, landspeed record for getting naked and
Channing topped the Guinness record for hitting one's knees and ingesting a
cock.
Channing's libido was in flames.
It had been disgustingly mortifying to model panties in front of a bunch of
strangers.
And maddeningly thrilling as well.
Channing could judge from the burning heat of Daddy's cock that his man was
as exhilarated by the recent proceedings as Channing was.
Channing was an inexperienced cocksucker, but he knew what it meant when
Daddy's balls drew into his body.
The man was about to CUM!!!
Should Channing back off, let Daddy cool down, then reapply his sweet mouth
to Daddy's cock to prolong the blowjob and enhance the orgasm?
No way.
The boy was getting Daddy off and getting out of Mimi's Intimate Apparel as
soon as possible.
Daddy cooperated with Stage One.
The man bellowed with erogenous torment as he vacated his testicles into
his pretty son's slurping mouth.
Which elicited the last cheer from the dwindling crowd outside the dressing
room.
Channing managed to swallow all but a few drops, which Daddy kissed off as
he told his boy how much he loved him.
So it was settled, Channing thought.
This humiliation nonsense would end and he and Daddy would go home and suck
each other dry for the rest of the weekend.
Daddy had different ideas.
He was bigger.
And had the car keys.
Daddy and Channing dressed and left the changing room.
And saw something that surprised them both.
Channing's friend Ivan and his Daddy, Mr. Buttsticker, were shopping with
Flo in the sissyboy section.
Daddy and Mr. Buttsticker looked at each other in wild surprise. As did
Ivan and Channing.
The boys had been "playing naked tickles" for some time. But they never
knew that the other had "that kind" of relationship with his Daddy.
Was there a "humiliate your sissyboy son" flu bug going around that
weekend?
Time for an expository flashback.
Ivan and Mr. Buttsticker's "new awareness" of each other had begun the
previous Sunday, when Ivan's Mom opened the bathroom door and caught Ivan
masturbating!
Mrs. Buttsticker was not amused. "You'll leave the bathroom door open from
now on, you little pervert," Mrs. Buttsticker announced most
unsympathetically.
Ivan was not amused.
But of course, the new rules didn't stop Ivan from masturbating. He took
care of that under the sheets. No one can truly get between a boy and his
cock.
The new rule just let his Daddy see Mr. Ivan doing bathroom things.
Ivan noticed quickly that Daddy began to be "around" whenever Ivan was
"doing his business."
So Ivan gave Daddy a show.
Most boys don't drop their pants when they pee.
Ivan did.
So that whenever Daddy peeped, he got a nice, full view of Ivan's fine,
bare bottom.
Ivan always shook his peter more than necessary so that Daddy could get a
nice view of his little tosser.
When Ivan pooped, the boy always opened his legs so that Daddy would see
all of his pretty boy's things.
And, of course, Ivan always pretended that he was unaware of Daddy's
presence.
In some states, such cockteasing would be a felony.
Or it should be.
Daddy Buttsticker was only human.
By the happiest of coincidences (in a literary genre that is rife with
them) Mrs. Buttsticker went on a long-planned, weekend getaway with her
sister. Leaving Mr. Buttsticker on Friday with Ivan and these
instructions: "Don't let Ivan close the bathroom door while I'm away. He
has to learn some self-control."
She then air-kissed her husband, got into her red sports car, and drove
off.
Mr. Buttsticker waved goodbye. Then considered his options.
He could be the good, straight, strict Daddy. Or he could take advantage
of what he was being blatantly offered by the little cockteaser he raised.
Mr. Buttsticker chose wisely.
Moments after his mother left, Ivan announced, "I have to use the bathroom,
Daddy. Do I still have to leave the door open now that Mom's gone?"
Mr. Buttsticker cleared his throat and considered his answer. He could be
cool, sympathetic Dad, saying, "That's a silly rule, Buddy. Of course not.
You deserve your privacy."
But that would be irresponsible. One parent undermining the other parent's
authority.
Plus, his chances of seeing Ivan naked would drop dramatically.
So Mr. Buttsticker said, "No way. Your mother was right. And even if she
wasn't, she's still your mother. Now go do your business while I order us
some dinner."
Ivan gave his Daddy what Mr. Buttsticker took as a flirty look, then
scooted off to the downstairs half-bath. Leaving the door fully open.
Dropping his pants and beginning his pee.
The sound of which was tormenting his father.
Should Mr. Buttsticker "look in" on his son? Just to make sure Ivan was
peeing properly?
Of course.
It was the right thing to do.
Mr. Buttsticker observed Ivan peeing a strong stream. With his pants down
and that beautiful, full ass pointing right at the overheated man.
Pretending he didn't know his Daddy was watching, Ivan shook most of the
last dribbledrops off of his perfect little cock, except for one big drop,
then bent over to flush the toilet and lower the seat.
Thus showing his Daddy the pinkness Daddy had been dreaming about.
Daddy gasped.
Loudly.
Causing Ivan to turn around in mock surprise. Which showed his Daddy the
second bits of pinkness that his Daddy had been dreaming about.
Mr. Buttsticker saw his beautiful son's prick in its full, drooping glory.
With a wet drop of pee hanging saucily at the tip.
The man and boy were frozen. Waiting for one or the other to make a move.
Ivan proved to be the mover,
One part of him, anyway.
As Mr. Buttsticker gazed at his boy with obvious lust, Ivan's cock rose
from pointing straight down to reaching for the stars.
And that was enough for Mr. Buttsticker.
Something snapped inside the handsome, hunky man's brain.
He became a lust-crazed beast!
Perhaps actual flames weren't shooting from Mr. Buttsticker's nostrils when
he strode toward his pretty son that fateful Friday evening, but Ivan
swears to this day that he smelled smoke.
Mr. Buttsticker sat on the toilet seat, wheeled the standing Ivan around to
face him and devoured the boy's erection in his mouth so urgently that Ivan
was afraid that his Daddy would "bite it off."
Far from it.
Mr. Buttsticker licked off the pee pearl and a pre-cum pearl that had
joined its cousin on Ivan's peelips. The man smacked his own mouthlips
with delight. He then set about licking and kissing and sucking his boy's
penis with a fervor so frantic that Ivan was squealing and squirming in
equal parts terror and rapture.
The man's lust recognized no borders.
Case in point  the large callused finger of the man's right hand that
overran the boy's sphincteral defenses and exploited its breakthrough all
the way to the boy's as-yet-never-touched prostate.
Well.
You're probably saying to yourself, "This is exactly what a little
cockteaser deserves."
And you would be right.
Though Mr. Buttsticker believed that cockteasers deserved far more.
No boy can hold back his joy very long when he's being simultaneously
fellated and finger-fucked. Especially when it's his first time for both
expressions of adoration. Add the whole father-son-incest into the stew,
along with the apparent berserkness of the aforementioned parent and you
have the recipe for an outstanding Friday night.
And an even better first cum for that night.
Ivan screamed in delicious torment as his nuts exploded into his Daddy's
mouth.
The boy wanted to ask himself, "What just happened?" but he couldn't align
two brain cells long enough to form a thought.
All he could consider was the feelings he had just experienced in his ass,
his cock and his balls.
Especially his ass. Deep in the hole.
Maybe Daddy would tell him what just happened. Or even better, maybe Daddy
would do it all again.
But no.
Daddy was pulling off Ivan's clothes! All of them. He was naked! And
wait, Daddy was naked too!!
Daddy was rooting through the medicine cabinet for something.
Huh?
The man found what he wanted, then turned back to Ivan.
Daddy was scaring Ivan.
It was like locking eyes with a wolverine.
Then Daddy picked Ivan up and carried him into the living room. The
horn-maddened man was pulling the cushions off the sofa and throwing them
onto the floor.
Daddy stacked two cushions, then laid Ivan's stomach on them.
The boy was face down, ass up and Daddy was behind him. He was opening
that jar he got in the medicine cabinet and saying something. What?
"...not as good as Spermbutt Anal Lubricant, but it'll do. People used
Vaseline for years before Spermbutt Anal Lubricant was invented."
What was Daddy talking about?
Oh!
Daddy's fingers were back inside Ivan's bumhole!
And they were slick that time.
Oh! That was nice.
Daddy didn't seem to be concentrating on that "deep place" as he had
before, but it was still nice.
Did Daddy just slip another finger into Ivan? And another?
What were all those fingers for?
Oh. Daddy was stretching Ivan!
So good.
Why did he stop?
Ivan looked over his shoulder.
Daddy was rubbing that Vaseline stuff onto his cock.
Oh, Daddy's cock looked so big and beautiful.
Ivan couldn't wait to suck it.
In fact, now would be a good time to make that offer to Daddy.
Ivan opened his mouth to say that to Daddy, but something interrupted him.
REALLY interrupted him.
DADDY WAS TRYING TO STICK HIS COCK INTO IVAN'S BUTTHOLE!!!
And mostly succeeding!!
This was far more than the cockteasing youngster had bargained for all
right.
He had imagined that his Daddy would kiss him and maybe get naked with him.
Play with his peter a little, the way his friends Channing and Stevie did,
until that nice thing happened.
He never thought that Daddy would suck him off and then [gasp] FUCK him!!
Ivan knew that boys could be fucked. It was the era of the Internet,
wasn't it? And the school library had begun offering Sissy Boy Magazine
some months earlier.
But Ivan never thought that his Daddy would be fucking him.
Or that it would hurt so much!
Daddy was out of control, Ivan thought. He was pushing his cock, a cock
that Ivan hadn't even properly examined before his inevitable demise, into
the boy's bumhole with little regard for Ivan's mortality.
Would it have been less painful with Spermbutt Anal Lubricant? If you
believe their multi-million dollar ad campaign, certainly.
But there was a certain wild spontaneity about Ivan's first fuck that he
would find charming. Years later. If he lived through the next 20
minutes.
Daddy lodged his entire ramboy into the boy's anus and, rather than pause
to celebrate his moon landing, began to fuck the boy with feral fury.
Ivan decided that, if he lived through all of that (a dim possibility), he
would go straight. Vote Republican. Wear only earth tones. Date [gasp]
girls.
But then...the boy's ass adjusted to welcome its ravager.
And every cockstroke created delicious friction on that spot inside Ivan
that Daddy had fingered earlier.
Ivan felt a really, really big cum building inside him.
Which, for a moment, he considered trying to hold back. So as not to
reward Daddy's bad behavior.
Not possible.
Ivan screeched like a banshee infant with a thorn in his foot.
And shot his sperm right into the couch pillow that Daddy would have to
refresh before Sunday night or face the marital (and perhaps judicial)
consequences.
That's the spirit, Daddy thought. Then reason, as well as millions of
sperm, left his body.
Man and boy lay locked in an exhausted pile. Loins spent. Daddy's
softened cock losing ground in his pretty son's ass.
When Mr. Buttsticker opened his eyes and caught his breath, he heard Ivan
crying softly.
Cascades of guilt swooshed over the man.
He'd practically RAPED his own son!!!
Sucked the boy's cock!!
And swallowed Ivan's sperm!
Mr. Buttsticker was a pervert. A child profaner. An incestuous monster.
And he would never be forgiven, by his son or by society.
He had to apologize to Ivan now. Plead temporary, cock-teased insanity (a
valid defense since Pedperv v. Montana in 2015). Hope that someday, if he
was good to Ivan...
"Daddy?" the boy said in a small voice.
"Yes, Honey?" Mr. Buttsticker asked cautiously.
"That was awesome. Can we do it again."
On second thought. If the boy wanted more mancock, who was Mr. Buttsticker
to deny him?
They did it again. Six more times. Evening, night and morning. Until
Daddy suggested a visit to Mimi's Intimate Apparel, where they ran into
Channing and his Daddy.
After all, Mr. Buttsticker thought, if Ivan was going to be a proper
sissyboy, he needed the gear.
It was a surprise  a delightful surprise indeed  for the daddies to
see each other and their sons at Mimi's.
Daddy Openbum had long fantasized of committing unnatural acts with not
only his own sweet son, but with Channing's friends, Stevie and Ivan as
well. This had definitely become the weekend for all those dreams to come
true.
It didn't take long for Daddy Buttsticker to connect the dots and picture
pretty little Channing, now identified as a sissyboy, riding
Mr. Buttsticker's pommel to Paradise Ranch either.
Well.
This called for a conference.
The boys were sent off for a moment as the men conferred.
"I sucked my Daddy's cock last night. A bunch of times. And this morning
too," Channing said.
He didn't get the shocked look he expected from Ivan.
"My Daddy fucked me seven times. Right in my butthole with his big cock.
And he sucked me off too."
Channing was the one with the shocked face.
How was that possible?
Ivan giggled. "I know. Isn't that wild? It hurt at first, but then it
was awesome! I'm sore today, but it was worth it. Didn't your Daddy fuck
you?"
Channing was puzzled by it all, but managed to say, "Not yet."
Channing hadn't considered the possibility of fitting Daddy's, or anyone's,
cock in his bum. But Ivan had done it seven times and was walking under
his own power.
If Ivan could do it, Channing said to himself, so can I.
Channing was a sissyboy, but he was no sissy.
Channing and Ivan thought about slipping back to the changing rooms for a
quick sperm exchange, but Channing's Daddy was ready to leave.
Daddy Openbum had a bag full of naughty purchases and a bag full of naughty
sperm.
Ivan's tale of fornication had Channing in a bit of a state as well.
If Daddy had any sense, the boy reasoned, they would go straight home and
he could teach Channing about this "fucking" business.
But no.
There was more humiliation afoot.
Channing noticed right away that Daddy wasn't driving in the direction of
home.
"Where are we going Daddy?" Channing asked.
"I thought we could use a little fresh air and exercise."
Which had Channing thinking that his first fucking was going to be in the
middle of the intersection of Main and Broad Streets. With the high school
band playing, local politicians working the crowd for votes, and the
Knights of Columbus selling raffle tickets.
Not quite.
Minutes later, Channing and Daddy pulled up in front of the town swimming
pool.
"A great day for swimming, eh, Honey," Daddy said.
Swimming?
To Channing's way of thinking, it was a great day for cocksucking. And a
better day for fucking.
And anyway, "But I don't have a suit, Daddy."
At which point, a very horrible thought overran Channing's brain defenses.
Did Daddy expect Channing to swim naked???
Horror!
But no.
Thank goodness. That would be the ultimate in humiliation, Channing
thought. And he was wrong.
"I have a suit for you, Channing. I got it at Mimi's."
Oh no!
Was the "suit" more humiliating than being naked? How was that possible?
Channing soon found out.
Daddy extracted a bag from the car trunk and led his boy to the changing
room.
"Here's your suit, Channing," Daddy said. "I'll just change into mine over
here."
Channing looked at his electric-blue, "new suit" in confounded horror.
It had straps and things that made no sense.
He looked at Daddy, who was already naked and about to slip on his speedo.
Thank goodness there were no other people in the changing room at that
moment.
"Oh," Daddy said innocently. "I thought you knew what that is. It's
called a `slingshot bikini.' All the sissyboys are wearing them this year.
It has a nice pouch for your `boy's things' and two straps that go from
your pouch to around your neck to cover your nipples. Isn't it cute?"
Tears formed in Channing's pretty eyes. Daddy was a fiend! He could just
forget about that "fucking" thing. That weekend and for all time.
"I can't wear this, Daddy. It's for a girl. I don't need my nipples
covered. I'm a boy. And, Daddy, it leaves my whole bottom exposed except
for the strap that covers where I poop."
"Nonsense. Let's go. I'm ready and the water's nice and cool on a hot day
like this."
Channing was powerless against his insistent, beastly Daddy.
Whimpering with shame, Channing put on the suit.
Daddy smiled with adoration. And tented his speedo.
"You look blazing hot, Channing. Take a look in this mirror."
Channing did so.
He looked like a little sissyboy asking for a man's cock, any man's cock,
in his pretty bottom. Which was 95% exposed.
The straps barely covered the boy's big, puffy nipples, which were
inexplicably hard. As was his boycock in that awful pouch.
He would be RAPED as soon as he entered the pool area. No doubt.
So why was he so desperately excited?
Because Daddy was right. Channing looked nuclear-fissionly hot.
And looking hot is exciting to the heat-bearer, no matter what the
circumstances.
Daddy rubbed Channing's bare bottom and kissed his neck. Would Daddy TAKE
Channing right there in the changing room. And then they could go home and
"do it" for the rest of the weekend?
No such luck.
When Channing and Daddy appeared at the pool area, there were about 30
women and 10 men- and 15 boys. The males issued a collective gasp that
changed the weather patterns for the Midwestern United States.
Oh my!
Channing felt a huge rush of adrenalin, mixed with indignity, shame,
dishonor, terror and ego-enhancement.
It was clear to Channing that, even though his reputation as a potential
heterosexual was destroyed for life, he was widely and avidly viewed as the
boy for whom other boys and men would donate a testicle for the right to
fellate.
The sweet boy's cock was "on the verge" within his slingshot bikini's
pouch.
Channing felt the same rush of thrilling humiliation that he had felt in
the French restaurant the previous evening. Men wanted him.
But he was so exposed.
His bare bottom, whose anus was the only shrouded part, was the object of
affection of the men who were behind Channing as he and Daddy walked to
claim two pool chairs. For the attention of men in front of Channing, his
"gathered" boy's things and his strap-covered nipples competed for
attention with the boy's beautiful face.
Channing decided that he would get into the water as quickly as possible
and stay submerged until Daddy relented and they went home. Where Daddy
had better tighten his chastity belt because Channing's body would be
"closed for business" in retaliation for this awful treatment.
A good plan.
Except that Daddy insisted on applying sunblock all over Channing's body.
Applying it so slowly, lovingly and sensuously to every exposed pore of the
sissyboy's body that Channing cried out and creamed his pouch.
As did six men and nine boys in the "audience."
When Daddy finished the job, he said, "OK, Honey. You can go into the pool
now," Channing wasn't as happy about that as he thought he would have been.
He had rather [ahem] enjoyed the sunblock application.
But the water was cool and Channing was hot.
Just before Channing was about to dive in, however, there was another
commotion in the pool area.
Mr. Buttsticker and Ivan had arrived!
And Ivan was wearing a suit identical to Channing's, except that it was
fire-engine red.
Well.
That pretty much made the day for the growing group of men and boys at the
pool.
Ivan, who was, after all, a convicted cockteaser, was not as reluctant as
Channing had been to "show his business" to the males of planet Earth. But
he was still happy to see Channing.
When your backside is bare, you need backup.
Channing and Ivan were about to confer on all matters sissyboyish when to
what did the pool men's wondering eyes appear, but the third member of the
pretty trio.
Channing and Ivan's friend Stevie and his Daddy, Mr. Knobthriller entered
the pool area.
And Stevie was wearing the naughtiest bathing suit of them all.
A wispy, yellow pouch held on by gauzy string that showed even more of the
boyish bottom than Channing and Ivan were displaying! And a top...oh!
It was a three-quarter-inch-wide, strap-like adornment that only suggested
modesty. And not very loudly. Stevie's bikini "bra" didn't really cover
either of the boy's hard, puffy nipples. Only the aroused tips.
Poor Stevie was undulating with shame. Until he saw Channing and Ivan in
their own versions of "Here we are, you randy men. Get your cocks stiff
and ready for us."
Humiliation is usually not as bad when it is shared.
Except for what had happened to Stevie the previous evening.
Stevie's home situation was different than Channing, whose Daddy was
divorced and shared him, and Ivan, who lived with both his Mom and Daddy.
Stevie's Mom had run off with the pizza-delivery man some six months
earlier, leaving Stevie and Mr. Knobthriller to cohabitate. Which was
working OK, except for the ongoing sexual tension that had been building
between them.
Mr. Knobthriller and Channing's Daddy were best buds and had been speaking
for some time about getting their boys first into panties and then out of
them.
They agreed on the bones of a plan  humiliate the lads on a Friday
night, have their way with them afterwards, up to, but not including
fucking, then meet at the pool that day for further humiliation. The plan
was then for each Daddy to...
That would be telling.
The fly in the cumpool turned out to be Ivan and Mr. Buttsticker, who were
not in the plan at all, since Mr. Buttsticker still had one of those
wife-things. But they were a welcome addition brought on by Fate and
Coincidence. Mr. Buttsticker had even exceeded the planners' plan by
fucking his boy already.
So Daddy Openbum and Mr. Knobthriller had some catching up to do.
Channing, Ivan and Stevie were beginning to think that a greater, global
plan was engulfing them. And that sperm would be flying hither and thither
in short order.
So maybe Channing could forgive Daddy after all. Especially with Daddy
looking all hairy and hunky in that Speedo. And, oh my, Mr. Buttsticker
and Mr. Knobthriller were looking mighty fine as well.
Channing didn't protest when Daddy put sunblock on Ivan. It made him a bit
jealous, but Mr. Knobthriller's hands felt so good giving Channing a nice
second coat of sunblock. Stevie seemed pretty thrilled to have his
sunblock applied by Mr. Buttsticker.
Ivan and Stevie filled their bathing suits with creamies by the time the
randy men were done oiling them up. And Channing, though having cum once
before, creamed and screamed most sissily under Mr. Knobthriller's strong
manipulations.
The men then dismissed the boys, probably to sharpen their planning for the
rest of that red-letter weekend.
The boys tried not to look at the gathering of about 50 men and boys
watching their every wiggle and spunkspurt. But they were thrilled to be
the centers of lustful admiration.
The pretty trio jumped into the pool and listened as Stevie described his
Friday night.
It all started out innocently enough. In recent weeks, when Daddy
Knobthriller got home from work, he would drop his pants and underpants,
sit in a chair, then have Stevie drop his pants and underpants and sit on
Daddy's lap. They would discuss each other's day as they toyed with each
other's throbbing penises. Punctuating their sharing-sessions with loving
little kisses.
Until things got too hot for further discussion.
The kisses would evolve into tongue-tussles and the cock-toying would get
serious.
Until both father and son had shot a considerable amount of their most
natural resource all over each other.
Now that may sound like "third base" to you. But Stevie and his Daddy
never got completely naked and/or horizontal. They limited themselves to
one "session" in the afternoon, one before bed and one first thing in the
morning.
Nothing anal.
No cocksucking.
All perfectly normal, moderate stuff.
More like "first base." On the way to second.
But Stevie wanted more.
Mr. Knobthriller wanted more.
But being a responsible Daddy, Mr. Knobthriller knew that his boy needed
guidance along his inevitable path to sissyboyhood.
He needed to be humiliated before he could be fully sissified.
For his own good, of course. Kind of like the U.S. policy in Vietnam of
destroying villages in order to save them.
So Mr. Knobthriller and Channing's Daddy, Mr. Openbum, decided to make
that very weekend the time of humiliation, sissification, fellatiation,
mutual masturbation and fornication for their boys and themselves.
The inclusion of Ivan and Mr. Buttsticker in the fun was an excellent
bonus.
When Stevie got home on Friday afternoon, he was delighted with his
prospects for the weekend, he told his friends as they cooled off in the
pool. He and Daddy had been getting "friendlier and friendlier," so it
seemed logical to Stevie that Daddy and he, with all that free time, would
"round the bases" a bit.
Unlike Channing and Ivan, Stevie seemed to know a bit more about what was
up. His Daddy had shown Stevie his first issue of Sissy Boy magazine three
months earlier. So Stevie knew that men will stick their fat cocks into
boy's bottoms...and that boys will love it!
But Mr. Knobthriller had never even slid a loving finger into Stevie's
itching-for-cock bum.
Stevie wanted to change all that.
As he dropped his pants and, yes, his panties, to join Daddy on his lap,
Stevie decided that he would be sucking Daddy's cock that night or he would
be calling the child abuse hotline to report on a father so neglectful that
he wouldn't even allow his boy to fellate him.
That would get those bureaucrats' moving!
Daddy had other plans.
Stevie was naked from the waist down. A very nice naked, for the record.
His little "proud beast" stood just over four inches tall.
Mr. Knobthriller was not naked. Below or above the waist. And was making
no movement to change that.
What the heck?
"Let's save all that for later, Stevie," Daddy said mysteriously.
Later? Stevie wanted his balls emptied now!!
But Daddy was the boss. Stevie pulled up his panties, tucked his
"business" inside them as well as he could, then redonned his trousers.
Daddy motioned for Stevie to follow him. To the car. To a local fast-food
place. Where Stevie could barely choke down his Monster Burger.
Had Daddy found another sissyboy?? Was he fucking that other boy and
Stevie was out of the picture? Was it that little tramp Channing? Or
Ivan? Or both of them?
Stevie would scratch their slutty, Daddy-stealing eyes out!!
Daddy could see Stevie's distress and was enjoying it far more than he
should have.
But it had to end. "We're entering a new phase of `tickles,' Honey. I
know you love the tickles we're doing now. And so do I. But we need to
move forward, so I'm taking you somewhere to start all that."
Stevie's lump (and a bite of the Monster Burger) moved out of Stevie's
throat. Daddy and Stevie were on the same wavelength. Just as Stevie had
hoped.
It was going to be a great weekend and he and Daddy would be circling the
bases together. Several times, Stevie hoped.
But wait.
Couldn't they just go home, get naked and "do it?"
Why did they have to go somewhere?
Daddy would abide no questions. And no slow-pokery.
The handsome man looked at his watch and said, "We have to leave in three
minutes. Finish your burger."
Stevie did what Daddy asked. Followed him to the car. And endured a
nine-minute car ride to... a strip mall? With a nail salon, a "healthy"
sandwich shop, a Chinese restaurant and a place with no sign. Just a
plaque that said, in small letters, "Humiliation Station. Please ring the
bell."
Daddy rang the bell as Stevie's mind raced. Humiliation Station? Did they
humiliate people there? In a strip mall? Who was humi...?
Uhoh.
Stevie was sure that Daddy wouldn't be the one being humiliated.
He wanted to run, but a man came quickly and before Stevie knew it, he and
Daddy were in what looked like a locker room. There were what appeared to
be five or six other father-son couples. All getting naked and hanging up
their clothes in the lockers.
The men looked eager to proceed. The boys did not.
Stevie sneaked a peek at the other boys. None were from his school.
Wait.
Jason Nutdrainer was in his class. The poor boy was beet-red with shame.
And erect as the Empire State Building on a calm day.
Oh dear.
Jason locked eyes with Stevie. Jason's eyes were filled with tears of
indignity.
Did Stevie look that awful to the other boys?
And why were most of them whimpering? Had the other boys been there before
and they were dreading something? Other than being in a room filled with
hunky men and naked boys, what was so bad about it?
Stevie soon found out.
The man who had let Stevie and Mr. Knobthriller in appeared at the exit
door. "Welcome everyone. We'll be going to salon B tonight. Follow me,
please."
Two of the naked sissyboys groaned at the mention of "salon B."
When Stevie and the others walked into salon B, he was puzzled by what went
on in there.
The room was circular, with a continuous floor-length mirror all around.
Odd.
The ring next to the mirrored walls was filled with eight tables, over each
a sheet and a pillow had been placed. Next to each table, a rubber bag
with long tube at the bottom was suspended at a height of six feet.
Odder.
At the center of the room, there were eight toilets, with seats, in a
circle, facing outward.
Oddest!
What the heck went on in there?
Behind the mirrors, at various places around the room, 14 men unzipped
their trousers and hung then up. It was a particularly pretty bunch of
sissyboys whom Humiliation Station had recruited for that evening's
entertainment.
The men would enjoy the show very much.
And well they should, considering the membership dues they paid.
As well as what Humiliation Station paid the fathers for bringing their
sons to this place.
Each father had been briefed on the drill.
"Let me help you up onto the table, Stevie," Mr. Knobthriller said.
"Please, Daddy," Stevie sobbed. "Can't we just go home?"
Stevie's tears broke Daddy's heart. But he knew a sissyboy needs his
humiliation so he can find himself.
And there was the matter of Stevie's ridiculously stiff cock.
"You say you want to go home, Honey. But just look at this."
Mr. Knobthriller laid his hand onto his son's cock.
And Stevie almost spurted.
It was true. Stevie was terrified and mortified, but he had never been so
excited.
"It's for your own good, Stevie," Daddy said as he maneuvered Stevie unto
the table. Which is what parents always say right before they screw you
over big time.
Stevie whimpered, but resigned himself slightly to what was about to befall
him.
He noticed that Jason was on the table behind him, but Stevie couldn't see
his schoolmate.
Daddy was using his fingers to rub some slippery stuff onto a nodule at the
end of the long tube. Stevie used those moments to check out Daddy's body.
Stevie had never seen Daddy completely naked before and it was a delicious
sight for the boy.
Daddy was hairy everywhere. And very buff.
Daddy's cock, which Stevie had seen naked many times before, was at its
manliest.
Stevie wasn't the only one who was ferociously excited.
When Daddy was satisfied with the nodule's slipperiness, he leaned over,
kissed Stevie on his lips, and said, "I'm going to clean you out with an
enema, Baby. No matter what happens, hold it all in until I tell you you
can go to the toilet. OK?"
OK?
NO!!!
It wasn't OK.
It would never be OK.
Stevie opened his mouth to protest, but Daddy slid the greased plug into
Stevie's anus.
And Stevie stopped protesting.
Stevie was completely unaccustomed to the delights of the anus. Not even
one of Daddy's fingers had penetrated his fundament.
So Mr. Enema Plug felt pretty good to a randy, virginal sissyboy.
It was a particularly long enema plug.
With a tip that had a special capability.
Daddy made some sort of an adjustment to the rubber bag and Stevie could
feel some warm water enter his bowels.
It wasn't entirely unpleasant. If it had stopped at, say, half a quart.
But Daddy kept flooding his pretty boy's bowels.
Which was getting really uncomfortable.
Stevie whimpered and asked Daddy to stop.
Daddy didn't stop.
But he did something that definitely got Stevie's attention.
The aroused man leaned over, took Stevie's prick into his mouth and began
to suck it!
Wow!!!!
Stevie had never had his cock sucked and his delight, though mixed with
growing discomfort, was nuclear.
Daddy was a pretty darned good cocksucker too. And Stevie's pink knob
tingled with deep, erotic pleasure.
Stevie wrestled with the competing feelings of impending ecstasy and
impending doom.
If he spunked, which seemed deliciously inevitable, Stevie was certain that
he wouldn't be able to control his bowels.
Maybe he could multitask. Keep that sphincter tight as he let his balls
ignite.
Maybe.
OK.
Remember that enema-plug feature I foreshadowed earlier?
The tip vibrated. And rubbed right on the old prostate.
Or, in Stevie's case, the virginal prostate.
Which had never been touched, let alone vibrated upon. During his first
blowjob.
Let's give Stevie a measure of credit for the bit of self-control he was
able to exert in that time of erotic crisis, OK?
He didn't completely empty his bowels when his testicles erupted into
Daddy's mouth.
All that came out was the enema plug and about a half-pint of poop.
Messy.
Plus there was that scream of erotic misery Stevie emitted as liquids burst
forth from his penis and his anus.
It was a loud one.
Stevie saw his orgasm through, of course. What male wouldn't?
But then he backed his limpie out of Daddy's mouth, lifted himself off the
table and ran, while sobbing from near fatal embarrassment, to the nearest
toilet in the center of Salon B.
He sat and pooped. And pooped. And looked around to see that four other
boys were similarly enthroned.
It was horrible!
But the blowjob had been good. Really good. Plus, what was up with that
thing in his bum? That felt fantastic!
When his insides had recovered, Stevie arose, flushed and was offered a
warm, soapy washcloth by that awful man who seemed to be in charge.
Stevie took it. Cleaned himself "back there" as well as he could. The
shot the nastiest look he could at his beastly Daddy. Who was smiling
smugly.
Stevie was NOT going back to that table. He couldn't. It was awful and a
horrible, poopy mess.
But wait.
The area had been all cleared and cleaned. Including that awful enema bag.
Maybe he should go back. Now that the bag was gone. And his cock was
getting hard again. >From looking at his naked Daddy. And [blush] some of
the other naked daddies and their boys in the room.
The last boy had just raced to the toilet. Which told the competitive
Stevie that he wasn't as bowelworthy as some of his contemporaries.
The enema bags were all gone. And Daddy's cock was looking all stiff and
drippy and yummy.
Maybe he should go back.
Just to see what was next. Prove to the other boys that he was no wimp.
And see if Daddy was going to rub that place inside him or not.
Daddy gave Stevie a big hug when he returned to his loving arms.
"You were a very brave boy, Stevie," Daddy said as he lifted him up and
covered him with sweet, naked kisses.
"No more enemas tonight, Daddy, please!" Stevie said. "But what the heck
was that plug thing doing to me in my bottom?"
"It was massaging your `boy's place,' Honey. It's a special spot that all
boys have. When a man touches it, it feels really good. I'll show you
right after you get onto your knees and suck my cock."
Stevie gulped.
He'd been wanting to suck Daddy's cock ever since he could remember.
But...
"Here, Daddy? Can't we just go home?"
"I could never wait that long, Sweetie. Look how excited being with you,
both of us naked, has made me. I'm in pain, Stevie."
Stevie winced at that. He couldn't let his Daddy suffer, could he?
The boy was almost too hot with shame to look around. But a quick glance
told him that two of the boys in Salon B were already on their knees,
chowing down on their daddies' stiff meat.
Well...
The pretty boy guessed it was OK. And there was a nice pillow there for
Stevie to kneel on.
He knelt.
And barely got his mouth open before Daddy shoved the knob in.
The man needed "it" bad.
The boy loved the feel of that fat penis in his mouth. And the taste of
that pregoo was awfully nice too.
What was he supposed to do now that Daddy's cock was in his mouth? Suck
it? No. Lick it. That was it.
Stevie rolled his wet tongue all along the tender underside of Daddy's
exposed knob.
That was it all right. Daddy was moaning with pleasure.
Daddy's balls smelled nice and musky. The sweet boy reached up and felt
them.
Heavy!
Filled with the juices that Stevie had been surreptitiously tasting, but
now would be able to drink right from the...
Oh!
Daddy was grunting. Urgently.
The aroused man cried out manfully.
And erupted.
Right into Stevie's unprepared mouth.
Stevie was as successful at containing those fluids as he had been able to
contain his own.
We're told that the average male orgasm produces four ounces, or a quarter
cup, of sperm and semen.
More than that spilled out of Stevie's over-challenged mouth. And the boy
bravely swallowed an additional more-than-that.
Daddy was above average.
Elvin Knobskinner, a full-fledged, Humiliation Station member, stroked his
penis frantically as he watched sperm drool from both of Stevie's pretty
lips.
A voyeur's paradise, Elvin thought as he shot his own warm spunk in four
thick arcs.
Elvin had been coming to Humiliation Station three or four times a week
since they opened eight years earlier.
Back then, about half of the "victims" were young girls. Which didn't work
very well. Their daddies tried to humiliate them, and sometimes succeeded.
But in the end, it was the daddies who ended up being nagged, manipulated
and emasculated.
The boys were far randier. Prettier and sexier in many ways. And more
willing to submit to all manner of indignities.
Elvin loved Salon C, where the naked boys indulged in a "peg race." Eight
parallel benches contained a succession of four ever-larger, vertical,
well-greased dildos. Each boy had to first sit on the smallest "peg," pull
his pretty peter until he shot his sissy juices, then disengage and move on
to the next "peg." Where he repeated the unnatural act to the cheers,
hoots and hollers of the men in the grandstand  the eight daddies plus
ten or so members.
By the time the boys reached the last peg, the two-inch diameter dildo
stretched their pretty bottoms to the limit and their cumshot was a weak
drool.
The exhausted winner won the cheers and adulation of the crowd. And his
Daddy's fat cock in his stretched, oiled bottomhole. After the winner's
Daddy further lubricated the pretty boy's prostate with hot sperm, the boy
could choose any man in the room for a lengthy second round in the back
room. With a real bed. And kissing that made it making love, not just
fucking.
The boys who placed second and third got a nice fucking from Daddy.
The sluggards who finished fourth through eighth got a thorough spanking 
with swats ranging from 15 at number four to 30 for the unfortunate number
eight. Then they too were all fucked, of course.
Elvin sighed with pleasure at the thought of Salon C night, which was
usually Tuesday. He had even been selected by the winner four times in the
last year.
But that was then.
At that now moment, an overheated Mr. Knobthriller said to Stevie. "I think
we need to go home now, Honey."
Stevie agreed eagerly.
The management of Humiliation Station was not pleased. Mr. Knobthriller's
paycheck for the evening would be docked, since he hadn't even stuck around
for the part where each boy gets a big, vibrating buttplug as his Daddy
sucks his boycock.
Mr. Knobthriller and Mr. Openbum had agreed that their boys would need
maximum humiliation to survive in an unfriendly world. But Mr.
Knobthriller's heart just wasn't in it. He would do then pool thing on
Saturday and their plan for Sunday, but he wanted to get Stevie home, teach
his anus a thing or two and nourish him with his hot spunk.
Mr. Knobthriller made that decision with a smidge of regret, since the
activities in Salon A that evening would have involved eight boys, eight
daddies, 14 members and a large tub of warm babyoil.
Each boy was to be oiled all over, from the neck down, by a man not his
Daddy. Then passed around among the men until every corpuscle of shame and
heterosexuality had been exorcised from him.
Upon cool-headed reflection, which was a remarkable feat for anyone with a
cock as stiff as Mr. Knobthriller's, the man realized that he should be
the first to fuck his boy's sweet ass, not some oiled-up knuckle-dragger.
And ass-fucking wasn't even in the grand plan until Saturday.
Which almost brings us back to Saturday, except to note that Stevie and
Mr. Knobthriller practiced fellatio and manual stimulation of the prostate
on each other to what could only be called excess.
When they finally fell into an exhausted coma-sleep at midnight, their four
testicles ached severely.
Yet their smiles were broad and their dreams were sweet.
Three  Saturday afternoon and evening
Hearing Stevie's story had Channing and Ivan in quite a state.
It appeared that they were merely tiles on a big scrabble board concocted
by their fiendish, big-cocked daddies.
And they weren't q's or z's. They were all vowels  tiles that would be
USED until their letters rubbed off.
It was VERY exciting!
At precisely noon, the daddies called the boys from the pool. "We're going
home now, boys," Mr. Openbum said, "where you're going to get what every
sissyboy wants and needs more than his next breath. A good stiff fucking."
Let's note that Daddy Openbum did not say this in his inside voice.
Oh no.
He said it loudly enough that every man in the pool area heard it clearly.
And felt its meaning in his groin.
Crimson with shame and peniley petrified with excitement, the boys climbed
out of the pool.
Channing couldn't help but give a little ass-wiggle in the direction of the
men across the pool. Engendering a loud gasp of lust.
Channing made straight for Daddy, but was intercepted by Mr. Buttsticker
who was wielding a large, fluffy towel to dry the boy off.
Mr. Knobthriller dried Ivan and Daddy Openbum dried Stevie.
Which felt really good until Mr. Buttsticker began to take Channing's suit
off.
"I can't get you completely dry while you're wearing that wet suit," the
man said innocently. The other men stripped their young charges as well.
The men took their time drying the naked boys off. Giving the pool crowd a
nice show. Punctuated by each boy eventually surrendering to his feelings
and shooting a nice, creamy load into the summer air.
Could there have been anything more embarrassing?
Well, the men did walk their naked boys to the locker room, where they
finally dressed them in clothes appropriate to the world as they knew it.
Paired with their daddies again, the boys went home.
To be fucked.
Fucked.
What a beautiful word.
What a beautiful state of being.
What a life-altering condition for the uninitiated and initiated alike.
Channing Openbum knew that the time for him to be FUCKED had arrived.
He was scared, but resolute.
He was a sissyboy, but he was no sissy.
Channing would take it up the pooper like a man.
Well, more like a sissyboy, but valiantly.
Channing was a little put off that Ivan had managed to have his pooper
pierced before Channing did.
Though he liked his own circumstances far better.
Mr. Buttsticker had practically RAPED Ivan. Though, by Ivan's own
admission, he had mercilessly cockteased his Daddy into that vile act.
From what Channing had seen, all seemed to be forgiven between Ivan and his
Daddy. As evidenced by their subsequent, loving fucks. And no wonder.
Mr. Buttsticker was a major hunk and it appeared that Ivan's options were
to 1) pout all weekend until his mother came home or 2) take full advantage
of a rare weekend alone with Daddy. Getting his ass stuffed again by
Daddy's cock. Over and over.
A no-brainer for sure.
Channing's Daddy had no intention of RAPING his boy.
Oh no.
He had done the "responsible-parent" thing so far that weekend. Preparing
his pretty boy for life as a desirable sissyboy through what Daddy believed
was "humiliation therapy."
Or maybe Daddy just liked the social atrocities he had committed with
Channing.
No matter.
Channing was a sissyboy. Everyone knew it now or would know it soon.
Actually, upon further review, Channing was a sissyboy in every way but
one.
And it was time to remedy that.
Channing and Daddy sped from the garage to the house and had barely closed
the door when they got bare.
Channing kissed Daddy ferociously. All indignities forgiven.
And inhibitions all dismissed.
Channing leapt into his standing Daddy's arms and, hanging on as well as he
could to Daddy's neck, reached under and tried to stuff Daddy's thick,
stiff cock into his tiny, dry hole.
A rookie mistake.
But a sweet one.
Daddy took that act as consent. And well he should have. Channing was way
beyond consenting to be fucked. He was desperate to be fucked,
Daddy was only a smidge more rational about the dire situation they faces.
Stiff cocks. Flaming libidos. And a dry, undilated bumhole.
Daddy could have sucked Channing's cock to take the edge off. Or he could
have lubed up three fingers with Spermbutt Anal Lubricant and introduced
his boy to the vast pleasures of the anus.
He decided to do both.
But not from a standing position.
Daddy carried his sexually desperate son up the stairs to the master
bedroom. And the master went to work.
Laying Channing on his back. Listening to the boy whimper with need as
Daddy drew the Spermbutt Anal Lubricant from the nightstand drawer and
slathered it onto three fingers of his right hand.
Daddy moved with the urgency of fiery lust as he entered Channing's pretty
wrinkle with one heavily lubed finger. Drawing the boy's deep gasp of
lust, which evolved to a half-squeal when Daddy slid the second finger in
as capped the boy's knob with his wet mouth.
Daddy licked the underside of Channing's penis tip as a third insolent
finger penetrated the boy's intimate place.
Channing cried out in erotic distress as the lust-crazed man located the
boy's prostate and tormented it viciously.
Which, all in all, was a most pleasant experience for them both.
Especially when Channing's prostate gave Channing just what it says in the
prostate-owner's instruction book  his first, true, prostate-centric
orgasm.
And a rip-snorter it was.
Slow in arriving. But gargantuan in its impact.
Such orgasms are specifically prohibited by the various federal safety
agencies and require a permit in many municipalities.
But Channing screamed and creamed his way through one anyway.
Unlike a so-called, "normal," penis-centric orgasm, there was no squirting
or spurting.
Channing's sperm flowed from his little boner like a heavily leaking
faucet. For one minute and six seconds. Had it lasted three more seconds,
Channing would have required CPR, with a only a 42% survival probability.
But Channing survived.
He had to.
Daddy, who had swallowed every drop from that leaky faucet, would have
probably tried to give Channing CPR as he was fucking him. That's how
randy the man was at that point.
The man slid two big pillows under the quivering, "coming down from
Mt. Orgasm" boy's hips, slipped each of Channing's calves onto Daddy's
shoulders and shoved his outrageously hard cock into Channing's virgin
hole.
Which got Channing's attention.
Especially when Daddy's cock slid across Channing's ultra-sensitive
prostate.
And then there was that "stretching-pain" thing.
You know. When a huge cock tries to violate the Laws of the Universe by
entering a place way too small and tight to accommodate it.
Ow.
Channing didn't scream. Probably because Daddy was on top of him with his
tongue inside Channing's mouth.
And probably because Daddy and Spermbutt Anal Lubricant had done a pretty
good job of preparing the field of play.
Truth be told, though, Daddy was scaring Channing a little bit.
Daddy was WAY into this fucking thing. [Not that Channing wasn't.] But
Daddy was POUNDING into and out of Channing's tiny butthole and he had a
look on his face that Channing had never seen before.
It was a look of, well, concentration. As if he had a big goal he was
shooting for and he had to reach it at any cost.
Channing was pretty sure he knew what that goal was. Dumping every last
sperm cell of his Daddy balls into his boy's bowels.
Channing was a good boy. He wanted to help his Daddy. So he reached
behind Daddy, hoping to cuddle Daddy's balls as they fucked. Channing was
sure that Daddy would like that. And it would help Daddy reach his goal.
But Channing's little arm couldn't reach that far.
However, he could reach Daddy's asshole. With his boyish fingers. And do
something else Daddy might like.
Channing let out a big moan and said, "Oh, Daddy, I love you so much. Fuck
me, Daddy. Fuck your sissyboy son."
And as the last word passed Channing's pretty lips, Channing plunged two
fingers into Daddy's hairy asshole.
That got Daddy's full attention.
The man's eyes got wide. And he stopped fucking for the space of two
stroke cycles.
Had Channing done something wrong?
Apparently not.
"That's so good, Baby," Daddy grunted. "Go deeper."
Channing did. Daddy shuddered, then resumed his fucking.
For the first time that weekend, Channing felt as if he were in charge.
Channing controlled Daddy's anal stimulation. And Daddy needed it badly at
that point.
Channing even found Daddy's prostate. Beginner's luck, perhaps. With
astrological consequences.
Daddy discovered a new galaxy,
And, with a manly cry of desperate release, he inseminated his lovely son
for the first of seven times that deliciously memorable Saturday afternoon,
evening and night.
Four  Sunday
Sunday morning's daybreak eased into the master bedroom at the Knobthriller
residence. Splashing its sunlight upon a very naughty tableau.
Stevie and Daddy Knobthriller were asleep. Naked in each other's arms.
Which was bad enough.
But there were other forensics that revealed various other breaches of
conventional propriety.
Such as, the large quantities of manly sperm in the regions in and around
Stevie's bumhole. Some was dried. Some quite fresh and drooling.
Then there was the evidence of spermal activity that covered 72% of
Stevie's pretty face.
Not to mention the boy's cream oozing from the boy's red-with-overuse penis
and large splashes of Stevie's sperm all over the boy's chest, stomach and
testicles.
It had been an excellent night.
The sun's rays stirred the happily exhausted boy, causing one pretty eyelid
to flutter open.
Oh dear, he thought as he regained consciousness. Did Daddy and I really
do what it looks like we did?
Stevie giggled softly.
Every bit of it.
As it turned out, Stevie reasoned, it had been well worth the mortification
he had suffered at that dreadful Humiliation Station. And at that swimming
pool. And at Mimi's Intimate Boutique, where Daddy had insisted that they
go after the pool.
The best part of it all was that, with no so-called "wife" in the picture,
either current or "ex," Stevie and Daddy were free to pursue all manner of
unnatural acts as naturally and as often as they liked.
Stevie was feeling really good about his future. Especially his immediate
future, since Daddy's cock had regained full manly vigor.
And Daddy was waking up!
At the Buttsticker residence, Ivan and his Daddy were already awake. And
active.
Ivan had a mouthful of his Daddy's cock and three fingers full of Daddy's
prostate.
Ivan's sex education had proceeded in reverse order to conventional wisdom.
He and Daddy had begun with the fucking and then backtracked to oral and
anal delights.
Lots of oral and anal delights.
Not that they had omitted fucking from Saturday night's man-boy
love-a-thon.
To most of us, three anal sperm deposits is a good night's work.
Though Channing and Daddy Openbum and Stevie and Daddy Knobthriller would
call it "a good start."
Being a responsible parent, Daddy Buttsticker treated his boy to an
advanced course in oral and anal delights.
Preceding the first fuck of the evening with a demonstration of his new
"lick it before you stick it" policy.
Oh how Ivan enjoyed that!
Daddy's fat, long, wet tongue did a deep dive into Ivan's private cave.
And spelunked the boy to a nasty orgasm.
Daddy licked up all of Ivan's creamy spendings and proceeded to demonstrate
how one gives a proper blowjob.
Under Daddy's erudite tutelage, Ivan was able to replicate the techniques
by tounging Daddy's hairy bumhole to a glorious conclusion, then suck down
a man-sized portion of Daddy's thick, nourishing man's cream, right from
the spigot.
Yum!!!
Should Ivan suck Daddy's thick log until he was served the sissyboy's
breakfast in bed? Or save this monstrous erection for his tiny bum's
pleasure?
Thankfully, that was probably the most thinking any sissyboy needs to do.
Meanwhile, Channing's Daddy had done the deciding. He was balls-deep in
his boy's pleasure pit. Listening remotely to the boy's cries of anguished
bliss as the man shoved and pulled his way to unparalleled ecstasy.
Channing had never been happier.
He forgave Daddy for all that humiliation business.
Especially when Daddy had explained his reasoning to Channing between their
fourth and fifth fucks the previous evening.
"You'll be with your mother more often than with me, Honey," Daddy had
said. "That's a sad state of affairs, but we'll have alternate weekends,
Wednesday evenings and every other Christmas. You'll need a man's cock in
your bum a lot more frequently than that. So I made sure that you were
exposed as a cock-loving, panty-wearing, man-hungry sissyboy. So you and
your suitors will have no reluctance to hook up any time you want. All the
cock you want. No guilt or holding back. My gift to you."
Channing had been overwhelmed with love for Daddy's selfless plan. And the
fifth fuck was a real gusher.
Channing was thinking about some of the men he would be "seducing" as Daddy
fucked him that glorious Sunday morning. And even managed a blush.
There were so many men he wanted to know better! And probably lots more he
hadn't met yet.
At the tender age of ten and a half, Channing had at least three primetime
years ahead of him.
Three years!!
More than 1,000 blissful days.
Including the bliss that was stirring in his balls as Daddy scraped
Channing's prostate with each urgent stroke.
Channing pictured himself as the object of men's wettest dreams. His balls
responded with a powerful detonation.
Which triggered Daddy's messy re-soaking of Channing's well-buttered bum.
What a delicious morning it would be, the boy thought.
But then...
"Let's go, Baby," Daddy said as he withdrew his half-stiff, fully-soaked
cock from Channing's butthole. "We need breakfast. I feel as if a wolf ate
my stomach."
Channing hadn't thought much of food. But he guessed he would need to eat
now and then over the next three fuck-filled years. So he arose from the
bed and followed Daddy downstairs. Both of them naked.
Channing thought for sure that there would be some fooling around at
breakfast.
He was wrong. Daddy was pleasant, but all business.
When they had eaten and cleaned up, Daddy said, "We need to shower and get
dressed."
Dressed? Channing didn't want to get dressed. He wanted to stay naked and
fuck some more. Especially since he had to go home to Mom after school on
Monday.
Showering sounded good though. He and Daddy could have lots of fun there,
with Channing bending over and...
Daddy handed Channing a towel, washcloth and body wash and said, "I'll
change the sheets while you shower, Honey, Don't be too long in there, OK?"
Rejected!?!?!?!
Was that how it was going to be?
Daddy empties his balls nine or ten times and then rejects Channing!?!?!?!
Ignoring the boy's desperate needs?
Was that what he could expect from men?
Tears filled Channing's pretty eyes as Channing showered alone. His little
cock wasn't even stiff as he cleaned himself, rinsed and dried off.
Channing could hear Daddy showering in the other bathroom. Then the shower
stopped. Daddy was drying himself off when Channing heard something else.
Someone was in the house. More than one someone.
Was it the police, come to arrest Daddy?
Was that why he wanted to change the sheets? To destroy the evidence?
Channing could hear the washer going.
Channing trembled with fear for Daddy, who may have rejected Channing that
morning, but was still Channing's first love.
Just then Daddy appeared. He was naked and calm. Hadn't he heard the
people downstairs?
"Daddy, there are people downstairs," Channing blurted out.
"I know, Baby," Daddy said. "That's just Ivan, Mr. Buttsticker, Stevie
and Mr. Knobthriller. The six of us are going to have a sissyboy spunk
party today and tonight. Won't that be fun?"
Channing shuddered with lust.
Yes.
Yes it would be fun.
The best kind of fun,
"They're getting dressed downstairs. I have your clothes in the spare
bedroom. Let me show you."
Channing followed Daddy.
On the bed, Channing saw what he was to wear to his first sissyboy spunk
party.
A tiny, pink, see-through, babydoll nightie; pink, seamed, fully-fashioned,
reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; pink, diaphanous, bikini panties; and a
ruffled, pink garter belt. All purchased at Mimi's the previous day.
It appeared that the men hadn't quite gotten over their heterosexuality.
But if that was what triggered their libidos, who was Channing to argue?
He was a sissyboy  submissive to men.
Channing had no idea how to roll on a stocking, straighten a seam or hook a
garter belt, but Daddy was very helpful. Copping a feel now and then, but
saving Channing's cum for the party.
Daddy left Channing in front of the mirror for a while as he changed.
Channing liked the mirror. Even though he didn't completely like all the
girlie stuff.
Daddy returned quickly. He was wearing only a thong pouch that barely
contained his stiffening cock and exposed his firm, hairy bum completely.
He looked yummy to Channing. But there were two other men downstairs whom
Channing wanted to sample. And Daddy definitely wanted to show Ivan and
Stevie a good time.
So downstairs they went.
There were boy blushes and stiff, panty-dampening cocks all around as the
sissyboys saw each other's scantily-clad dads and their babydolled sons.
The boys' outfits were identical, except Ivan was in black and Stevie was
in white.
Mr. Buttsticker was looking at Channing the way a lion looks at a limping
gazelle.
Which was scarily flattering to Channing.
Channing didn't hesitate when Mr. Buttsticker held out his hand in
invitation. He took the hand and silently thanked Daddy for ridding him of
his foolish inhibitions.
Ivan accepted a similar invitation from Mr. Knobthriller and Daddy
Openbum's invitation was eagerly accepted by Stevie.
Mr. Buttsticker led Channing to the third bedroom upstairs and, leaving the
door open, took the boy into his arms and pelted him with ardent kisses and
praise for his beauty.
Moments later, Channing's panties were off and the boy was learning all
about Mr. Buttsticker's "lick it before you stick it" policy.
It was going to be a great sissyboy spunk party for Channing, Ivan and
Stevie and an even greater life for them and their daddies.
I welcome your comments at beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com.
Other stories on Nifty:
"Sweetyboys" (gay young friends) August 31, 2007
"Boarding-School Bedmates" (bisexual adult-youth, though it's quite gay)
May 5,2008
"After-School Stroke Club" (gay high school) May 28, 2008
"Pretty" (gay adult-youth) May 21, 2008
"Hotel Management" (gay adult-youth) June 2, 2008
"Dating Pretty Boys" (gay young friends) July 2, 2008
"Sissyboy Stepson" (gay adult-youth) July 30, 2008
"Sissyboy Showoff" (gay adult-youth) August 14, 2008
"Sissyboy Sleepover" (gay incest) August 26, 2008
"Cockteaser's Comeuppance" (gay adult-youth) September 5, 2008
"Schoolboy Pleasures" (gay adult-youth) October 23, 2008
"Home-Schooled Sissyboys" (gay incest) October 25, 2008
"Sissyboy-Daddy Reunion" (gay incest) November 24, 2008
"Sissyboy Shooting Lessons (gay adult youth) December 4, 2008
"Stepson Seduction" (gay incest) December 13, 2008
"The New Sissyboy" (gay incest) December 22, 2008
"Sissyboy Hangout" (gay incest) February 13, 2009
"The Little Prickpleaser" (gay incest) February 20, 2009
"Twelve" (gay incest) March 10, 2009
"Sissyboy Facts of Life" (gay incest) March 11. 2009
"Lord Upcock's Darlings" (gay adult-youth) March 12, 2009
"Sissyboy Spunk Party" (gay adult-youth) March 20, 2009
"Corporate Cockpleasers" (gay adult-youth) April 1, 2009
"Sissyboy Nephews" (gay incest) May 5, 2009
"Sissyboy Pediatrics" (gay adult-youth) May 14, 2009
"Next-Door Sissyboy" (gay incest) May 19, 2009
"Sissyboy Sanctuary" (gay adult-youth) May 20, 2009
"Model Sissyboy" (gay adult-youth) November 5, 2009
"Sissyboy Restitution" (gay adult-youth) January 27, 2010
"Sissyboy Spinoffs" (gay adult-youth) January 28, 2010
"Sissyboy Wives" (gay adult-youth) February 3, 2010
"Secret Sissyboys" (gay adult-youth) April 8, 2010
"Sissyboy School Spirit" (gay adult-youth) May 5,2010
"Try Men" (gay adult-youth) June 21, 2010
"Teaching Sissyboys" (gay adult-youth) July 26, 2010
"Sissyboy Princesses" (gay adult-youth) September 11, 2010
"Sissyboy Swap" (gay adult-youth) December 26, 2010
"Sissyboy Psychology" (gay adult-youth) January 12, 2011
"Sissyboy Island" (gay adult-youth) January 28, 2011
"Sissyboy Prom Night" (gay incest) February 8, 2011
"Sissyboy Workout" (gay adult-youth) February 12, 2011
"Naughty Sissyboys" (gay adult-youth) February 19, 2011
"Society Sissyboys" (gay adult-youth) February 28, 2011
"Sissyboy Sodomy" (gay adult-youth) March 22, 2011
"Sissyboy Stripoff" (gay adult-youth) April 5, 2011
"The Sissyboy and the Ruffboy" (gay adult-youth) April 5, 2011
"Sissyboy Superiority" (gay adult-youth) May 26, 2011
"Sissyboy Sex Education" (gay adult-youth) August 6, 2011
"Sissyboy Justice"(gay adult-youth) August 16, 2011
"Sissyboy Summer"(gay adult-youth) August 23, 2011
"Sissyboy Dreamer" (gay adult-youth) September 8, 2011
"Try Boys" (gay adult-youth) September 12, 2011
"Sissyboy Scenes" (gay adult-youth) September 19, 2011
"Sissyboy Matchup" (gay adult-youth) January 11, 2012
"Sissyboy Fixup"(gay adult-youth) January 18, 2012
"Sissyboy Adultery"(gay adult-youth) February 12, 2012
"Sissyboys in Love"(gay adult-youth) February 20, 2012
"Sissyboy Lust" (gay adult-youth) March 24, 2012
"Sissyboy Siblings" (gay adult-youth) March 27, 2012
"Sissyboy Test" (gay adult-youth) April 24, 2012
"Sissyboy Culture Shock" (gay adult-youth) May 24, 2012
"Sissyboy Honeymoon" (gay adult-youth) June 27, 2012
"Sissyboy Discipline" (gay adult-youth) June 29, 2012
"Sissyboy Physical Education" (gay adult-youth) October 4, 2012